


Fairy Circles

by seagullandcroissant



Category: Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Genre: Blood, Drama, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Gen, Help, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Injury Recovery, Other, also hi, help them pls they're only babie, i couldn't rest till i wrote this, put those tags just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 11:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20487998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seagullandcroissant/pseuds/seagullandcroissant
Summary: A whelp Nomura learns what a human is when she finds one -- face to face.





	Fairy Circles

Nomura made three mistakes that night.

First, was the sleeping sack.

Being on the trail, sleeping in such close quarters, she should’ve rigged something to give the illusion she was still there, something to fool the eye till morning. Till sunrise was all she needed, and she could pass the circles under her eyes as the fault of the stony floor – Otto had never been good in finding comfortable caves.

The second, her footsteps.

In the European hillsides, where the stars were plenty and the woods were long and far, steps down were treacherous, especially against soft, inexperienced feet of a small 9-year-old girl. She’d caught herself on her bottom when she slipped, and her heart hammered as she listened behind and above her, toward the yawning cave. But there was no sleepy shifting or stirring nestmates, so she breathed out, clenched her cut hand close to her chest, and she continued down, down, down.

The third was being alone – far from the people that she called home.

But she did not know this mistake then.

Hooves exchanged for fleshbag feet, she picked her way down, careful to step on sturdy stones, hopping, gently so, before her feet finally hit some of the sweet, soft grass at the edge of the wood’s clearing. Nomura glanced up, watching as the disappearing moon, like an eaten cake, rose high into the air, a hum filling her ears, completing her transformation to something more pink, stony, and less like a fleshbag.

Being in her troll form, blinking the human aligned sight out of her vision, she saw it.

Fairy Circles – dozens of them, pushing up through the soil, and dusting themselves with the surrounding dew.

She smiled softly to herself and picked her way towards them, the gentle lights from the sky coming down to bounce on the freshly sprouted bells. The gentle lights did not seem to mind her – dewdrops of the cold night clinging and sitting on the edges, refracting the soft, magical light, a few of said light touching her long strands of jet-black hair that met her waist, lifting to observe them.

It was a soft, gentle moment in the unfamiliar night – something private – hers – something she could claim as her own in this strange, new world.

“Hey!” A voice barked out, something wet prodding her leg, breaking her out of her stupor.

She fell backwards in surprise at the noise and sensation, and, instantly the magical lights fled into the stars again, leaving her alone, her form now illuminated by the harsh yellow of a torch held high above her head.

A human – a large one – and from the voice, a male.

His face was sweaty, round, and he was tall, her eyes traveling from dark, muddy boots, up a fluttering cloak, and at the edge of a sword. The wet sensation she came to realize was the beast the human had with him, a four-legged beast, with alligator teeth, a raised patchy mane, and eyes black as coal.

She shook, soft, meeting the human’s eyes.

They stared back, full of fear and fury.

“I knew it…” he whispered, suspending disbelief, “I’ve been tracking you this week – I knew – I knew something wasn’t right. What are you demon? Speak!”  
  
  
  
“Please…” she spoke, not sure what to else say, trying to explain herself – who she was – what she was. Humans weren’t supposed to know – they weren't supposed to see.

He bellowed harshly at her voice, she screamed, and the dog lunged, catching her in those poised teeth. The animal’s weight kept her pinned while the pain in her shoulder shot all the way up her spine. She kicked at it’s underbelly, her small claws raking along its side, but it did not yield or stop making that terrible loud sound, right in her ear. Spittle flew from its mouth, and as it broke away to bellow its roar in her ear, she delivered a strong kick to its nose, causing it to yelp, and her to get to her feet.

The man however was stronger, faster, and nimbler than a bleeding, young changeling, and the blunt, rusting weapon the man held swept her feet out from underneath her, crashing her to the ground. She was sent rolling down a dip in the hill, scarlet droplets staining the long grass as she fumbled, the beast regaining its feet, and the human rushing to stop her supposed escape.

She cried out as a handful of her hair was clutched and pulled up to her feet. The human’s beast continued its series of roars as she hissed loudly, baring her teeth, ready to attack back and defend, as she’d been trained to.

But, soon, she found, she didn’t have to.

A bright flash of silver cut between them and the human stared at the lack of changeling in his hands, replaced by the gathering of cut hair instead. He glanced up as a pair of glowing eyes lunged from the darkness, the silver collar like a ring in the night, the two tumbling and fumbling and struggling against the other.

Nomura, legs numb, collapsed on her side in the grass. The young changeling watched the wriggling forms sideways, the pair slamming each other against the wall of grass on one side and the other wall of her vision stretching on forever with the inky black trees and the half-eaten moon – lights disappearing, snuffing out, till they were all gone.

All gone. 

* * *

  
Nomura awoke to no stars, no sound, nothing. Nothing except, two faces, pressed together, pressed close, breath still and respective green and blue eyes round.

Her eyes opened and closed, but a hand on her face, thumb running across a bruised cheek made sure she didn’t close those eyes again, not for a while, at least.

Moving – they were moving. Something faster than foot, carriage, or even her favorite, a horse. They smelled like hay and Heaven. 

There was a bed above, a chair beside, a small room – but moving – moving fast.

_Chug-Chuga Chug-Chuga Chug-Chuga_

“Where…” a voice croaked, her voice, unrecognizable. “Where… are we?”

“A train…” another replied, “You’re safe… You’ve been asleep for a long while.”

That didn’t reassure her, and she attempted to sit up, before she cried out, her voice pitching as she clutched her shoulder with her small human hand, wrapped snug and close. A pair of hands eased her back down while another grabbed a second pillow from the top of the bunk, stuffing it behind her, propping her up ever so slightly.

Her eyes shifted briefly over herself. The ripped traveling dress was gone replaced by a borrowed dark black coat and a snug shirt layered as a makeshift nightgown. It kept her warm under both sets of sheets and quilted blankets, along with her large black socks – one of the few salvageable things from her dog-destroyed outfit. Her good hand traveled up her young, round cheek, feeling the pockmarks – the bruises, the bandages, the wrap around her forehead, and most horrifying of all – the empty air where her hair once was.

As she became more aware, she glanced at her company – her older Nestmates: Otto and Waltolemew Stricklander – both still staring, quietly hovering, concerned.

Otto’s hand was still on her feverish face, cool, reassuring.

“How are you feeling?” Strickler finally spoke, voice hoarse, the skin under his eyes dark – one a black eye, slightly swollen.

“Wally… your eye…”

“Don’t worry about me – you need to tell me how you’re feeling.”

There was a pregnant pause, the room quiet, Nomura’s senses all alight, even if dull.

“The woods…”

“Miles behind us…”

“Our…campsite…”

“It’s with us, not to worry…”

Her blood froze, her good hand rubbing the smarting shoulder and arm, phantom teeth ripping into flesh.

“The… human… and it’s… monster…”

“They’re gone.” Strickler reassured, taking and squeezing on that free, good hand. “We chased them off – they’re not coming back to hurt you again…”

She was quiet a moment, the faint distant smell of brewed tea and cake suddenly sour, her lower lip starting to tremble, despite how hard she bit it to push back those tears.

Otto, peach fuzz curling in his frown, giving Strickler a glance, grabbed the washcloth from her head, wiping her flushed cheeks.

“Mura…”

“What… What did I…” she whimpered, through curled lips, trembling, “What did I do wrong?”

Quiet, they continued their respective comforting motions.  
  
  
“What…?” Strickler asked, tilting his head.

“He… hurt…me… a punishment… I… what did I do…?” She croaked, puzzlement creasing her brow, her eyes glowing, “What did I do for him to come and…?”

“Nothing.” Otto hissed, maybe a bit harsher than he had intended, “You’ve done **nothing** wrong.”

There was a qiuet beat, her face shifting as Strickler shot Otto a look, curling a lip.

The eldest took over then.

“You did nothing to evoke him – he shouldn’t have gone after you – or attacked you -- no one deserves that, least of all you.” He paused, “You have to understand, Mura, this world… this surface… it’s… as the Darklands… unfair… beings… they… make judgements – may accuse you…”

Her soft, pale face tilted slightly.

Strickler continued, holding that hand firmly, face growing a bit more serious as it all settled in his blood.

“We’ve could’ve lost you – you understand? You could’ve died. Understand?”

She nods, soft.

“There are many dangerous things on the surface – things that want to hurt you – things that do not understand us – what we do – what we are.” He paused, “One of those things are humans… they… are not the same as us, Mura, understand?”

“I… do…” she murmurs, not fully, but it was clear.

Strickler stopped in his chiding and explaining, seeing her exhausted, and sighed a bit more in that simple relief, hand running through whatever hair she had left.

“Will… it come back?”

“What? Your hair? Of course, it will.”

“No, the humans…” she fiddled a bit with the edge of her bandage, wincing, “was… I…?”

“No, you did nothing wrong, Mura – you’re a good changeling – but you did put yourself in danger. You must be careful – you cannot do that again."

Otto guided the hand away from picking, “_Ja_, careful – but we’ll be here with you. You’re safe, now…” 

The words were a comfort, and she flashed the glow of her eyes at them, relaxing a bit back into the dip of her pillow for the first time that evening.

And, purring, the other two pressed close, Otto clambering over her and supporting the bad shoulder with his fluffy warm head, pressed close to her side, warm. Strickler groomed the now short hair of Mura, clambering carefully beside the young nestmates, wrapping his pair of wings around them, the leathery shell like a cocoon, warm, safe, and secure. 

  
Nomura’s lips curled a touch, and she closed her eyes.  


Her Fairy Circle was closer than she’d realized.


End file.
